


(basil the) scarecrow

by pipsqueakparker (lafbaeyette)



Series: fictober 2020 [15]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27029872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafbaeyette/pseuds/pipsqueakparker
Summary: Everyone knows the story of Basil the Scarecrow, and how he was a gloomy, somber soul... But the lesser known story is what it was that led to Basil's heart being turned to coal.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: fictober 2020 [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949911
Comments: 17
Kudos: 39





	(basil the) scarecrow

**Author's Note:**

> this is either one of the best or the absolute worst thing i've ever written
> 
> i'll let you be the judge
> 
> day 15: scarecrow
> 
> many many thanks to [annabellelux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabellelux/pseuds/annabellelux) for reading this over for me last night to let me know it was at least worth posting.

_**Basil the scarecrow  
** _ _**Was a gloomy, somber soul  
** _ **_With a sewn on smile and some button eyes  
_ ** _**And a heart compared to coal** _

Simon Snow was well into middle age now, as he carried his two youngest to bed. The children both shared Simon’s bronze curls and freckled cheeks, but they were full to the brim of their mother’s independence and tenacity.

“Papa, can you tell us a story?” The smallest asked, grabbing onto Simon’s hand after he tucked her blanket up over her shoulders.

“Yes, a story!” The eldest cried his agreement, and Simon chuckled under his breath and sat on the edge of the youngest’s bed.

“Alright, what story do you want to hear tonight?”

They both scrunched up their noses, pursed their lips, as if they were thinking hard. Simon knew what story they would ask for, they always asked for it around this time. When the moon hung high much earlier and the temperatures dropped. When they passed more and more fields with their flannel-covered guards, stood tall and strong in the middle.

“Tell us the scarecrow story again,” the youngest finally said, and her brother nodded his head furiously, making Simon laugh again.

“Alright, but just this one and then you’re both off to sleep. Got it?”

The children nodded their agreement and Simon settled in to repeat the story, letting himself reminisce in the memory as well.

_**Basil the scarecrow  
Is a fairy tale, they say** _   
_**He was made a straw, but the chosen saw** _   
_**How he came to life that day** _

“Now, we all know the song, that Basil the scarecrow was a gloomy, somber soul,” Simon began, his children already enthralled in the tale. “But the lesser known story is what it was that turned Basil’s heart to coal…

“Years and years ago, before either of you were even a twinkle in your mother or father’s eye, there was a young boy. He was a strapping young lad that had just returned home to help his father out with their family farm.

“One day the boy wandered into the cornfield, on a break from his usual chores, when he came across a scarecrow—”

“Basil!” The youngest exclaimed, and Simon laughed once again at her excitement.

“Yes, the scarecrow was known as Basil. He had a sewn on smile and two button eyes, and stray pieces of straw sticking from his head in a cruel mockery of hair. The boy thought it a shame that the scarecrow had to stand out in the sun with no shade, no protection from the elements, so he set off on a self-appointed quest to find a gift for Basil.

“The boy’s father was not home, so he ran back to the house and dug through his father’s closet. That’s when he saw it, an old, black, tattered hat. It wasn’t the nicest thing he’d seen, but as soon as he touched it he felt a _spark_ of something in his hands. It felt _right_ , like it was exactly what he’d been looking for.

“Hat in hand, the boy ran back out to the field and walked up to the scarecrow. He stretched up on the tips of his toes, held on tight to the hat, and placed it gently upon Basil’s head.” 

**_There must have been some magic in_ **   
**_That old, tattered hat they found_ **   
**_For when they placed it on his head_ **   
**_He began to dance around_ **

“Then he comed to life!” The youngest squealed. Her brother shushed her. Simon nodded, continuing on.

“Yes, that’s exactly what happened. As soon as the boy placed the hat on Basil’s head, there was a strange swirling wind all around him, for _just_ a second. A split second of something cold, something warm, something electric, something _familiar_. And the next time he looked up at the scarecrow, two grey eyes looked back at him.

“The boy yelled, obviously taken by surprise by this stranger appearing — Until he looked harder, and recognized the hat, the too-large flannel and jeans. The stranger’s cheeks were pinked, just as pink as the patches that had been sewn onto the scarecrow’s face. The stranger was confused as well, unsure what was happening, but the moment he locked eyes with the boy… it didn’t matter. He knew that he belonged, wherever he was, he was meant to be here with this boy.”

_**Oh, Basil the scarecrow  
Was alive as he could be** _   
_**And the chosen say he could laugh and play** _   
_**Just the same as you and me** _

“The boy welcomed Basil to the farm, and he too felt a strange familiarity with this stranger. This _scarecrow_ turned stranger, but it made sense to him. He had grown up on this farm, had grown up walking through these fields with his father, had even helped his father _create_ Basil. When the boy had been much younger he didn’t have many friends, oftentimes Basil was the only one the boy had to talk to.

“He did that now, talked to Basil. Told him everything he wanted to know, answered any questions. He gave Basil a tour of the farm, of the house, even offered to take him into town. Basil refused, he didn’t feel comfortable leaving the grounds, but the boy hoped that one day that would change.

“When Basil and the boy returned to Basil’s post, they realized that the crops were already being picked and pecked by birds. After all, Basil was the one meant to protect them. That was the point of a scarecrow. So Basil climbed back onto his post, and returned the hat. And the boy was alone once more.

“It wasn’t until a couple days later that the boy had an idea. The fields didn’t need protected at night! So that night, the boy snuck back out to the field and placed the hat right back onto Basil’s head. And that’s how it went for the remainder of the season…”

“And they were best friends, right, Papa?” The boy asked. Simon nodded, smiling fondly.

“They were the best of friends,” he continued. “Even better than friends, after some time. They spent night after night wandering the grounds together, talking and laughing and playing. The boy had never felt as close to someone as he did with Basil, and Basil had never felt so close to someone period.

“Everything was great, in their opinion. Until the boy’s father found out.”

Simon’s words were met with gasps, perfectly timed as always.

_**Basil the scarecrow** _   
_**Knew he’d lose his heart that day** _   
_**So he said, “Let’s run and we’ll have some fun,** _   
_**Now before I’m sent away”** _

“The boy’s father did not approve of his growing relationship with Basil, and he started doing anything he could to keep the two apart. He took the hat away, he threatened to get a new scarecrow, to set Basil aflame, anything at all to keep his son away.

“None of it worked, the boy continued to sneak out and spend time with Basil. He ignored his father’s warnings, he fought to keep what they had. But his father had had enough. One night, finally, he placed a curse on Basil’s hat. He turned the magic against them, and rather than bringing him to life the next time the boy placed it on his head… it destroyed him.

“Basil could still come to life, but it took all of the love that he felt in his heart for the boy and turned it into absolute rage, and anger, and agony. Basil tried to fight through it to remain with the boy, but it became too hard for Basil to exist. He was filled with despair at every turn. And the boy couldn’t stand to see Basil existing this way, so he eventually stopped until he could find a way to counter the curse and bring love back to Basil’s heart.”

**_Basil the scarecrow was sad to see him go_ **   
**_But he waved goodbye saying_ **   
**_“Don’t you cry,_ **   
**_I’ll be back again someday”_ **

“Did he ever find a way to break the curse?” The youngest asked, still enraptured by the tale. Simon gave her a sad smile and shook his head.

“We don’t know,” he answered. “But we can hope.”

“The moral of the story, though,” Simon said as he stood and leaned back down to tuck his wiggly daughter back into her blankets. “The greatest lesson the boy learned was to cherish every moment you have with the people you love.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then crossed the room to tuck in her brother.

“Because life has no guarantees, so we take advantage of every moment.” He pressed a kiss to the boy’s temple before moving back to their bedroom door, hand on the light switch.

“Goodnight, Papa,” the children sang in chorus, bringing that smile right back to Simon’s face.

“Goodnight, my loves.”


End file.
